


Marian Musing

by Lyledebeast



Series: Plans [7]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Gen, Introspection, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-20 17:19:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10667253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyledebeast/pseuds/Lyledebeast
Summary: A series of ficlets based on my Plans series and focused on Marian's thoughts as her relationship with Allan and Guy develops.





	1. The First Time

**Author's Note:**

> This project came about because I've been feeling creative, but don't have as much time to write as I'd like. There are a lot of stories I'd like to tell about these three, and keeping them short--no more than 1,000 words each--seems like the best way to move forward with the most ideas.
> 
> I have no idea how many there will be, and I expect the ratings to vary a LOT. For safety's sake, I've labelled the whole thing as Mature, but look to the chapter notes for more specific ratings.

It was enough to make her consider staying when Guy looked up at her through his still damp bangs with such sadness and longing in his eyes, and even Allan had been convincing his plea for her to spend the night with them.  But she knew she had to resist.  Far better, she reasoned, to leave while they still wanted her company than to wait until her presence in their shared bed had grown awkward.  This thought, as she rounded the corridor on her way to her own bedroom, brought a grin to her face with its irony.  She had just gone to bed with the sheriff’s subordinate, and his own subordinate, a former member of her former lover’s gang.  “Awkward” didn’t begin to cover what she’d done.

Allan had been the braver of the two, surprising and pleasing her with his boldness. She wasn’t sure if he would actually warm to her proposal or not; he’d certainly seemed more suspicious than Guy.  At that thought, the smile dropped from her face, a sense of shame with which she was becoming familiar filling her.  Allan was so protective of Guy where she was concerned. She supposed he had reason to be.

When she had first heard the rumors from her servants, they had shocked her.  Two men lying together as a man and woman? How uncouth, yet how intriguing.  When she’d donned her Night Watchman apparel and scaled the wall to Guy’s bedroom window a few nights after her return to the castle, her reasons had been purely opportunistic: to learn whether the rumors were true, and to consider how she might use them to her advantage. 

As she’d peered around the corner of the window, concealed by the darkness outside and the curtains, she had seen Guy lying in the center of the bed with Allan sitting next to him, rubbing his back.  While their posture was that of a master and servant, their conversation could not have been more different.  They were talking about her; Guy telling Allan how uncertain he felt about their relationship and why she had come back, and his lover, even while keeping her secret, reassuring him. It wasn’t about her, though.  The affection Allan felt for him was clear in the steadiness of his hands as he stroked and the softness of his voice, even before he asked Guy to turn over and leaned down to give him a tender kiss.  Marian had shifted her position in the window to get closer, forgetting herself for the moment, and that was when Allan, without making a sound, had looked up into her eyes.

Things had happened so quickly after that she’d hardly had time to think about what she’d seen.  The next morning, the sheriff had been found missing, and Prince John’s men had threatened Nottingham.  Then Guy had caught her and discovered her identity as the Night Watchman, and her life had been in danger again.  But both times, though not without great inner struggle, he had taken her side.  It had transformed her view of him.  His potential was even greater than she’d imagined; how much more could he do?  She knew that she would have to get closer to him to find out, but also that promises would no longer be enough.  She would have to give something of herself, though at the time she hadn’t know what.  When she had brought it up with Allan, though, he greatly simplified matters.  She would give Guy the truth, or he would.

Guy certainly had reason to be suspicious of her intentions.  She had lied to him, betrayed him, and willingly cooperated with his enemy in every possible way.  But even knowing the whole truth had not altered his desire for her, and that had only increased hers for him.  And yet what she had witnessed that night in Guy’s bedroom had given her pause.  She didn’t want to betray Allan, nor bring about the end of the trust and warmth that had grown between them.  Clearly, there was only one solution.

Now that it had been done, she knew that nothing would ever be the same again. She couldn’t be sure what the future held for them, but one thing was certain.  Returning to the forest was out of the question now.  Before, all it would have taken was an admission that she had been wrong, that she had overreacted, and she was sure Robin would have welcomed her back with open arms.  But she couldn’t lie to him; telling Guy the truth made her feel sure of that.  Now, she had not only kissed Guy, she had felt his fingers inside her, his mouth on her breasts, and for no other reason than the pleasure of having them there.  Robin would see her as tainted now.

She sighed as she drew back the covers and climbed into bed.  She wondered if Guy and Allan were asleep now, or were they lying in each other’s arms, speaking in hushed tones about what had happened.  Suddenly, she felt very lonely and cold.  It wasn’t that she really wanted to go back to Robin; the weeks that she had spent in the forest—the trial run of what their married life could be like—had been illuminating to say the least.  Robin had never given her the trust or respect he expected from her, though she had never done anything to justify his doubts . . . until now.

If Robin, who knew her so well, didn’t have faith in her, how could Guy?  “Love” was the only answer her brain supplied. She shook her head as she pressed it back against the pillow.  She couldn’t think about that.  Not yet.


	2. The Second Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a new scenario. It's not related to any prior fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated E for erotic snuggling.
> 
> Someone left a comment expressing a wish for me to write Marian being hurt, which I have fulfilled here. ;)  
>  (Psshh. Like I'd ever hurt Marian. I leave that to the show's writers).

Marian’s excuse was that she was exhausted.  She hadn’t meant to fall asleep in Guy and Allan’s bed, but here she was, lying between Guy’s legs, her head pillowed on his flat belly. Allan was lying next to them, snoring softly.

Guy had come to her that morning, unable to meet her eyes, and she had worried that he was going to tell her something terrible.  Like that he regretted consenting to their encounter with Allan a few nights before.  Instead, he had told her of the Sheriff’s plans to take from the surrounding villages’ meager winter food stores for his soldiers.

“I knew you wouldn’t like it,” he’d said, “but I can’t disobey the sheriff.”

Disappointed, Marian had been just been on the verge of telling him she didn’t know why he had brought it up in that case, when he added something that surprised her.

“But I thought if I came to you, you might have an idea about what might be done.”

She’d hardly known what to say.  It was the first time anyone had ever asked her to come up with a plan to help the villagers.  Usually, she had been asked to the opposite.  “Stay home with your embroidery.”

She’d never ridden harder in her life, first to Clun, then to Nettlestone.  Her horse had gotten so winded that she’d had to leave him with a farmer and borrow another, a barely broken filly who had nearly thrown her twice.  But now the high-strung animal was happily installed in the castle stables, and the villagers had been warned in time to hide the bulk of their supplies.  The sheriff had been furious; it was fortunate that Allan had his ear more than Guy did. “If you kill them, who’s going to harvest the fields for next winter, eh?”

It was more than evident that he wasn’t pleased, but at least the sheriff had postponed any executions, though not without some very colorful threats.

How could Marian let such bravery on the parts of both her lovers, not to mention herself, go rewarded? Still, sex was one thing.  Sleeping with them was a wholly different matter.

But Guy’s belly was so warm and comfortable. The other men she’d slept with had either been too small to bear her full weight or too slender to for her to lie on top of them for long comfortably.  However, Guy’s height and bulk, so intimidating when he stood behind the sheriff, made him perfect for sleeping on.

He makes a better mattress than a henchman, Marian thought to herself, and she failed to suppress a giggle.

She lifted her head, hoping the sound hadn’t awakened him, but he remained fast asleep.  Sighing with relief, she lay down again.  She was awake now; just a few more moments of comfort and she would be on her way.

But lying there conscious only made her more aware of Guy’s body, his broad chest under her head, his muscular thighs bracketing her hips.  And then, of course, there was what lay between them.  Slowly rolling to the side, careful not to wake either of them, she stretched out on her side between her two lovers. Her brain still foggy with sleep, Marian felt free from inhibitions.  She slipped her hand between Guy’s legs, cradling his soft cock.  Even in this relaxed state, his size was imposing; this was one way in which “big” might not turn out to be so comfortable.

She certainly hadn’t felt inclined to take it into her mouth earlier, grateful that Allan had been amenable to that challenge.  It left her free to pay attention to his stones, cupping them in her palm and licking them.  Guy certainly hadn’t complained; she was only able to take one into her mouth for a couple of seconds before he arched his back and groaned loudly.  Allan sputtered as his mouth filled with spend; Guy’s coming undone so quickly had taken them all by surprise.

“Do you think we were too overzealous?” she’d asked with a smirk.

“I think we were too good,” was his sage reply as he wiped his chin.

Guy had barely been able to nod.

Marian’s attention snapped back to the present as Guy sighed and shifted towards her.  With a sheepish grin she realized that she’d been lightly petting his cock all the while, her reverie making her forget that it was attached to him, and he could feel it.

She released him--once in an evening was enough—but not without a final thought of what it would feel like inside her.  A tight fit to be sure, but if he pleasured her before with his mouth as enthusiastically as he had tonight . . .

“Marian? Are you awake?” Guy murmured.

She leaned down over him, kissing his chest between his nipples.  “I am, Guy.”

“Do . . . do you have to go?”

“I’m afraid so.  I need to . . .”

“Huh, what’s that?” Allan said, the last word half swallowed by a yawn as he looked back at them over his shoulder.

“It’s Marian,” Guy answered.  “She’s leaving us again.”

“Noooo,” wailed Allan softly, stretching and reaching back for her.  His unfocused hand tangled itself in her long hair, as though he meant to hold her in place by it.

“Ow!”

“Allan!” Guy growled.  Marian chuckled at his tone.  Only half awake, but still so protective.  Allan ignored him completely.

“Don’t be ridiculous Marian,” he said with another yawn.  “If this is some kind of penance, it’s too late.”

She turned around to give him a shove for his cheek, but then pressed a kiss to his jawline.  Allan had a good point, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing it. Giving in, she lay down between them once more, sighing with contentment as Guy wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against him.

One night surely wouldn’t hurt.


	3. The Sheriff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated for general audiences. It's set immediately after the events that come before the first chapter of The Proposal. Prince John is in Nottingham, and Marian tells him something that brings about the sheriff's downfall. But things don't quite go as she expects where Guy is concerned.

Marian had been amazed initially by how quickly Prince John had ordered the sheriff’s arrest after her lie about his cooperation with Robin Hood, but it soon gave way to a triumph she found difficult to hide.  It was true that she had never had trouble hiding her emotions before, but then she had never met with such wild success before.

Once that was over, and the prince was satisfied with her highly creative account, which she had worked out with Allan’s help in the previous week, she looked forward to celebrating their victory.  There was, however, one unmovable obstacle to her enjoyment: Guy.

Once they were alone together, all she had wanted to do was hug him and tell how proud she was, how much it meant to her that he had trusted her, and gone along with her story.  Not long ago, she had despaired of his ever taking her side over the sheriff’s, and now Vaisey was in the dungeon, and Guy was free of him.  But instead of being pleased or even relieved, Guy acted as though he had been arrested himself. His complexion was wan, he kept fidgeting with his gloves, and couldn’t seem to stand still.  Her attempts to reason with him had only made him furious.  Did she really think it would be so easy? That she sheriff didn’t have some trick up his sleeve that hadn’t occurred to her?

Marian highly doubted that the sheriff had seen any of this coming; he thought far too much of his own cleverness, and not nearly enough of anyone else’s.  His encounters with Robin had proven that again and again. And even if he were wilier than she’d anticipated, Prince John was far more powerful, and it was he who had ordered his imprisonment.  Guy’s lack of faith surprised and hurt her, and her temper had risen to match his. She’d regretted it almost immediately. If she felt she had little to fear from the sheriff, Guy was another matter.

The scariest moment had come when he’d asked, unable to meet her gaze, where the sheriff had been taken.  For a moment, she was afraid to mention the dungeon.  What if Guy wanted to go down to him? Would it be to make sure he was securely confined, or to set him free? She had shuddered at the thought.  Surely, after his loyalty just a few hours earlier, he could be trusted? But she knew how he felt about the sheriff, that he was a man of almost super-human power, an irresistible force.  She wondered if he already regretted his choice.

By the time Allan arrived in their bedroom, she and Guy had not spoken for some time.  Marian hadn’t been so relieved to see the smaller man since he’d donned her Night Watchman’s garb and distracted the sheriff and guards, preventing her execution.  Once again, he had proven himself the hero of the hour.

It almost made her jealous that Allan could have such an immediate calming effect on Guy as well.  Within a few moments, making the same points she had about their interviews with the prince, the fact that it was his men, not the sheriff’s, who were guarding, the prince’s previous displeasure with the sheriff that now seemed to have been confirmed, he had made Guy not only relax but smile.

“How do you do it?”

She posed the question with Guy stretched out on the bed between them, sleeping contentedly with his head on her lap while she idly combed her fingers through his hair.

Allan gave a shrug.  “I don’t know, Marian.  Maybe it just sounded better coming from two people instead of one?”

Marian pressed her lips into a tight, unsatisfied line and raised her eyebrows.  “Maybe, but it doesn’t say very much for his opinion of me, does it?”

Allan made no reply at first, instead looking down contemplatively at Guy’s relaxed face.  She wondered what he was thinking.  Was it, “why should Guy believe you when all you’ve done for years is lie to him?” Even unuttered, it was enough to make her open her mouth in protest.  She hadn’t always lied, and even when she had, it had been to protect herself, or for the good of others. “Allan, I . . .”

“Don’t worry about it, Marian,” he said softly, looking up at her.  “I really don’t think it’s about you.  It’s just . . . Giz has been with the sheriff for a long time.  A lot longer than he’s even known about you and me.  We might be enough to make him turn on the sheriff, but we’re not enough to make him forget all the sheriff has meant to him.”

Finishing, he gave a little shrug and lay down next to Guy, seeming to signal the end of the conversation.  But Marian found it impossible to let it go just yet.

“You don’t . . . you don’t think he’d try to help the sheriff, do you?”

Allan cocked an eyebrow and sat up.  “No, I don’t think he’d betray you now.” He paused for a moment before giving a wry little smirk.  “I don’t think we should let him go down there, though.”

Marian sighed, closing her eyes and resting her head against the board behind it.  She supposed that was the most comfort she could get tonight; better to just try and get some sleep.  But when she opened her eyes again, Allan was looking at her with the same concern he’d fixed on Guy a moment earlier.

Without a word, he stood and came around the bed to stand next to her, pulling her against his chest.

“It will be fine, Marian,” he cooed, stroking her hair.  “Guy trusts you, and . . . so do I. We’ll do whatever you ask us to do.”

Marian smiled as she relaxed into the hug.  His hesitation had not gone unnoticed, but his words still touched her.  Maybe it would be fine after all.


	4. Allan's Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marian visits Allan on the night before her wedding, and they talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is set the night before Two Weddings takes place. It's rated Teen and up.

Marian tossed and turned in her chamber in the castle; she had been trying to fall asleep for hours, but with no luck.  She had barely used the room since her return to the castle, and trying to sleep there now only made her think back to how miserable she had been before, when her father was still in the dungeon.  At the time, she had wanted nothing more than to get away from the castle and everyone in it, including Guy.  And now she was going to marry him.  Tomorrow.

She hadn’t been able to sleep before their first wedding either, but it was the only commonality between this night and that one.  Before, she had feared that she would lose her freedom.  Now, she was afraid of the responsibility she was taking on.  For now, she would be the sheriff’s wife, and the sheriff himself looked to her guidance in all things.  Compared with the responsibility of administering justice to all these people, securing this position for Guy had been fairly easy. 

She sat up with a sigh, pulling her robe around her.  She had told herself that she could get used to sleeping alone again quickly; after all, she had been doing so almost all her life. But it had only gotten more difficult as the nights had passed.  Perhaps she would fare better in Allan’s room.  She never would have dreamed that she could fall asleep so easily beside one man, let alone two, but she missed them. Allan’s bed would be empty, she was certain; Guy would want someone to comfort him through the night.  But at least it might smell like him, and it didn’t hold the bad memories that her chamber did.

She sped through the drafty corridors as quickly as her slippered feed would let her, and soon found herself standing by Allan’s bedroom door.  Mounting her torch on the wall, she it open slowly, careful to attract the attention of any guards who might be passing by.  But once she was in the room, she froze, remaining perfectly still to listen.  She could hear the sound of soft breathing coming from the bed.  It was slow and even enough to make her confident that, whoever the person was, they were asleep.  If she could only get out as easily as she had gotten in . . .

In her haste, she opened the door too quickly, and it creaked loudly.

“Hey, who’s there,” cried a voice from the bed, thick with sleep but still angry enough.  It was Allan.

Marian sighed and closed the door again; it was too late to turn back now.

“It’s me, Allan,” she said as she stepped closer to the bed.  “It’s Marian.”

“Marian?” he mumbled.  He sounded confused to her ears, but at least he was calmer.  “What are you doing here?”

“Um, well . . .” She paused, suddenly embarrassed.  “Why are you here? Why aren’t you with Guy?"

Allan was silent.  “I asked you first,” he said at length.

“Fine,” Marian mumbled under her breath, disappointed that she was going to have to spend the night in her room after all.  “I couldn’t sleep . . . I was just thinking about tomorrow and that room just . . . I’m sorry for waking you, Allan.  I’ll go . . .

She trailed off as she turned for the door, but Allan’s voice stopped her.

“It’s cold, Marian.  You’d better get in the bed.”

As she climbed in, he sat up, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.  “Now, what’s got you upset.  Are you feeling like maybe . . .”

“I’m not going to punch him at the altar again, Allan!”

He sighed.  “That’s not what I was gonna say, Marian. I was gonna ask if you’re having second thoughts.  Not because . . . I don’t think you’d hurt him again.  Not without the reason you had.  But I wonder if you’re just doing this because you think it’s a good idea.”

Marian remained silent.  It was a question she had considered many times herself.  It was a good idea, politically speaking.  And most marriages among the nobility were politically motivated, weren’t they? But for her, that had never been the most important thing. 

“No.  I love him.  I wasn’t sure at first, with all that’s happened between us.  But I meant what I said when I asked him.”

Allan turned, wrapping his other arm around her, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Good.  That’s good.”

Then he lay down on his side again, leaving her to conclude that the conversation was over.  But she couldn’t get out of the bed yet; she was too curious.

“What about you?”

She had meant to ask him how he felt about the upcoming marriage, whether he was worried about how it would affect him.  But the simple question got a simple response.

“I love him, too.”

Marian smiled. “When did you know?”

Allan rolled over to face her again. “Well, there wasn’t really a specific moment.  And I wouldn’t have called it love then.  But when I would go to him at the end of the day, he was just so vulnerable and sweet in private . . . away from the sheriff. And I just . . . I know that was probably poor Annie’s downfall, too; he didn’t have to intimidate a kitchen maid, so he could let his guard down.”

Marian grinned in the darkness.  No, sentiment wasn’t Allan’s strong suit. “And so you fell for him, in spite of what happened to her?”

“Well . . .  I thought since I was stuck with him, might as well enjoy it. And I wasn’t going to get pregnant, was I?”

Marian considered that for a moment.  “Tart.”

“Oi, look who’s talking!” he cried, knocking his knee against hers playfully.

When their laughed had ceased, Marian started to get up.  “I suppose I should go back now.  It would’t do for me to wake up on the morning of my wedding in another man’s bed, would it?”

Allan put a hand on her shoulder, rising himself.  “No, stay here, love.  Maybe you’ll sleep better here.  I’ll go to your room; then if we’re found, the servants will just be confused.”

“Thanks, Allan.”

He bent down, kissing her lips softly.

“See you in the morning.”


	5. Sore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guy and Marian wake up together for the fist time as a married couple: set after "Two Weddings." This chapter is rated M.

Allan had warned her that Guy was a cuddler, that he had often awakened in his bed more securely confined by his lover’s arms than by the shackles in the dungeon.  It wasn’t an entirely pleasant prospect now that the weather had turned warmer, but she was glad Allan was there to answer her questions.

“Is there anything else I should expect? Does he kick or throw punches in his sleep?”

Allan’s eyes had widened in horror.  “What?”

“Well . . . sometimes Robin would wake me up in the middle of the night and he’d . . .

“Marian, Guy isn’t fighting Saracens in his sleep, what in . . . how are you even still alive?”

She could only shrug.  “You told me he has nightmares.  I was just asking.”

He considered for a moment.  “Okay, yeah.  He mutters or cries sometimes, but you just rub his back and talk to him if you’re awake and that usually makes him stop.  You won’t have to block a punch, for fuck’s sake!”

Actually, none of that had happened on the first night.  Guy had been so exhausted from lack of sleep the night before that he had drifted off a few minutes after they had sex. Now, waiting for him to wake up the next morning, she couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed.  They had talked so much before, and she still had more to say to him.  He was lying on his belly, just as he had fallen asleep hours before, but there was something different.  He was wearing trousers and a light shirt, which he most certainly had not been when she fell asleep.

She knew she should let him catch up on his sleep, but she was bored.  And she was curious.  It was an irresistible combination.  Reaching towards him, she combed her fingers through his hair until he stretched and opened his mouth wide in a yawn.  She drew her hand back as he rolled over to face her.

“Good morning, darling,” she cooed.

His eyes opened to mere slits as they adjusted to the light, but a little smile appeared on his face.

“Good morning,” he replied drowsily.

“Did you sleep well?”

He sat up, stretching again, this time spreading his arms so wide that Marian had to duck to avoid being accidentally hit.  Guy’s long limbs were definitely something to watch out for when he was still so sleepy and uncoordinated.

At last, he answered her. “Like the dead.”   
Looking down at his body, Marian raised a suspicious eyebrow.  “The dead don’t go walking around the castle at night,” she pointed out.

“Huh?”

She placed a palm on his lower belly for emphasis, sliding it up until his shirt bunched up against her arm. “You weren’t wearing this last night.”

“Oh . . . no.  I wasn’t.”

She stroked over his groin and down his inner thigh, smirking when she heard his breath hitch.  “Or these.”

He swallowed visibly and shook his head.

“Explain.”

She sat back, pulling the covers more tightly around herself.  She supposed he needed some time for his brain to catch up with the rest of his body.

“When I woke up last night,” he began, “I was starving.  I’d never been so hungry before.”

Marian nodded, recalling that he had not eaten anything at the wedding. “Of course you were.  Did you find something in the kitchen?”

“Yes.  There was a lot of bread left over from the wedding.”

We’ll have to do something about that, Marian thought to herself.  Such fine food would not keep fresh for long, and there were many who could make use of it.  It had been her father’s custom to share leftovers from his feasts with the poor of Nottingham; perhaps it was time to revive that that tradition.  But for now, she had more pressing matters on her mind.  She loosened the covers, letting them fall from her shoulders.

“Are you still hungry?”

Guy swallowed again. “No, are you?”

His mouth fell open as she threw the covers off completely, and his eyes darkened with lust. 

“Guy? Did you hear me?”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

Marian laughed, delighted that she could still make him blush.  “I said, I don’t know why you had to get dressed again.  I wasn’t finished with you.”

“I . . . I” he stammered before he could finish.  “I didn’t think you wanted me to be the kind of sheriff who walks around the castle naked!”

She crawled towards him, straddling his waist.  “Well, I wouldn’t mind,” she offered. Her chuckle was brought up short as she winced.  Her concern about the size of Guy’s cock had been the only one to come to fruition, as it turned out.  She was sorer than she could remember being since her first time all those years ago.  Still, she had no one but herself to blame.  Her husband had been so considerate, but she had urged him.  It had felt so good at the time.

“Are you alright, love?” His voice was soft with concern as he sat up, lifting a hand to stroke her face.

She covered his hand with hers, sliding it to her mouth to press a reassuring kiss to his palm.

“I’m fine, darling.  It’s just . . . a little like riding a horse when you’ve been out of practice.  You don’t feel it until the next day.”

She couldn’t help giving a thought to ho smug would Allan be if he could hear her now. It was he who had compared Guy to horse the previous day. “Be careful, love,” he’d said, grinning from ear to ear.  “You’re a lot braver than I am.”

Guy smiled and hugged her against his chest, gently, as though he feared doing her further injury. “I know just what you mean, darling. We’ll be more careful next time.”

Marian kissed his neck and shifted her hips against him, earning a groan and a tightening of his arms around her.

“Not too careful, I hope.”


End file.
